Oh, this Fool again!

A poem for April

Photo by Yuel on Unsplash

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After a long series of mostly recycled posts during Lent, I really wanted to give you a new poem for Easter, so … here, have this one! New and old, both; Easter-ish, without fussing about it; definitely not one you’ve seen before. In this form, I’ve barely seen it myself.

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APRIL’S  FOOL                                                                   1982/2026


Oh, this Fool again! Each April,
over chill and wind-scrubbed meadows, 
he comes dancing, green and silver,
he comes laughing through his tears.
Laughter like the light up-rising,
tears that fall like rain to soak
the parched and weary world, to rise 
again in mist, in earth’s new green,
in his laughter’s dancing light. 
Parched and weary, April’s children
raise blind hands through quivering mist,
thirsty to catch and hold the Fool 
all in his green and silver, find 
their fingers full of budding leaves
and flowers, fresh with drops of tears, 
of dance, of laughter, of Fool’s light.

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This poem is a turn-it-inside-out revision of one I wrote in 1982 … one of the earliest poems of mine that I was willing to take with me into adulthood. I was still reaching for my adult poet’s voice when I wrote it, and I knew it wasn’t finished; I also knew there were ideas and runs of words in it that I had to keep. Here they are again, speaking with their own voice, alive in a different body but still themselves, ready for a whole new life. And ready to be shared with you.

Happy Easter, if Easter is a dance you do in April. Happy April and happy dancing, whether or no.

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Thank you so much for reading this post, and special thanks if you let me know you read it. Little clicked-red hearts are very nice; comments are food and drink. (I’m a poet, we don’t get out much.)

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